


Local Scientist Creates Disaster Gay

by rainonmyback



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Android AU, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Banter, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I guess???, In later chapters - Freeform, M/M, Scientist AU, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, scientist wilson, this one's weird folks bare with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26189455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainonmyback/pseuds/rainonmyback
Summary: “Can I pee?”“No, House.”House jots that down on a piece of paper. He’s making a list of every mistake Wilson’s made in his coding. So far, Wilson feels like the dumbest scientist alive.
Relationships: Greg House/James Wilson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 52
Collections: dumbass doctors





	Local Scientist Creates Disaster Gay

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii yeah so... android au!!!! let me know what you think! :-)

After nine months, several mini-breakdowns, three trips to the hospitalㅡhe’s gotta stop leaving his water bottles near open wiresㅡand finally constructing two beautiful, icy blue eyes, Dr. James Wilson had finally finished building his first ever android. Not for the world though.

At least, not yet. He needed to test him out, see what his capabilities are, how he acted around and with humans, and what needed to be fixed. After-all, this was his first project that’s ever gone off of paper, grids and whiteboards. This time, even though many of his colleagues were unenthusiastic, he had pure determination to make a human-like android. And he _did._

Many, for instance, his friend, Dr. Cuddy, questioned the purpose behind his need to have this dream become a reality. He’d say it was to test science’s boundaries, or to see what he was really capable of. He’d tell anyone who’d listen that he could, and would, make his mark in history. These were lies. Well, okay, not lies, per say. 

Wilson would love to be respected in his community. Wilson would gladly take a medal or two, maybe get a hospital or laboratory named after him. Something that says that he was worth the trouble of carrying to full term. But, none of these wants were the main case as to why he built the android. You see, truthfully, Wilson was lonely. 

Loneliness can do...strange things to a person. 

And Wilson was a strange, lonely person. 

_**~** _

“You know I’m no good with naming things.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” Cuddy said, barely into the conversation. She’s been sick of the android talk for months, but doesn’t have the heart to tell puppy eyes Wilson her real thoughts. 

“I named my plant planty, Lisa.” Wilson was looking down at his phone, scrolling through a list of Buzzfeed’s _“top 50 cool and quirky names that’ll blow your dick off”_. He grimaced at the name Cowarzard. 

“Then name him android-y?” Cuddy replied. He gave a look at that. She took a sip from her coffee. _It’s too damn early for this._ “Y’know, maybe you should’ve thought about this sooner?”

“I know, I know. You’re right,” he shook his head, following Cuddy into the elevator, “He’s gonna wake up soon! Only,” Wilson glances at his watch, “ seven more hours until he’s fully charged and can be activated!”

“Better find him a name then.”

Silence. Cuddy thanks the Lord for it. 

He scrolls down the list. “Travis?”

“Do _not_ name him Travis. He’ll fucking kill you in his sleep.”

All Wilson could do was nod at that advice.

**_~_ **

It was time. Wilson pressed the _on_ button, located at the back of the neck. It glowed blue, then green. In a brief moment, the scientist thought either him or the android would explode. Hell, maybe even both. 

He opened his eyes. 

They were even more mesmerizing when activated, practically sparkling. Wilson’s already clammy hands somehow got clamier. They both marinated in the moment, blinking at each other. Wilson swore he had some sort of introduction planned, but every thought in his brain was just a useless string of nonsense.

_Oh my God. Oh my_ **_fucking_ ** _God. He’s real. He’s really real. He’s fucking real and he’s_ **_looking at me_ ** _._ **_Oh my God. Oh my God_ ** _. What the fuck is_ ㅡ

“Um, hello?” the android says, slowly. His voice is deep, bass humming along his speech. It sends a small shevier up Wilson’s spine.

“ _Hoㅡ!_ Uhm, yes, _uh_ ,” he stumbles out, taking a step back, “hello.”

Silence once more. The android stands up, and immediately winces, sucking in his lip. _Wow, how does it look so real?_

_(And...soft?)_

“Oh! I’m sorry, uh,” Wilson puts his hand on his shoulder, “is something wrong?”

“My leg.” He replies, sitting back down on the couch. He’s rubbing the limb, up and down.

“What about it? Is it weak? I can probably get into those circuits and make sure everything’sㅡ”

“It fucking _hurts._ ”

Full stop, with the human man’s mouth agape.

“You feel pain?”

The android rolls his eyes. 

“I dunno. Does _‘it fucking hurts’_ not insinuate that?” he barks out, “one minute into existence and already this shit sucks. Good job.”

 _Did Wilson program him with his much sass?_ He doesn’t remember. 

“I’m sorry,” he replies sheepishly, “I can check you out later on tonight.”

“Gee, doc. At least buy me dinner first.”

The android doesn’t give him time to gather a response to that. 

“So, what’s the plan? Am I gonna be your sexy maid or what? Where’s my cute frilly skirt, _sir?_ ” he asks, eyebrows raised, glancing around the apartment. 

Wilson’s entire face goes scarlet.

“ _No!_ You’re, uh, not gonna be doing any kind of labor, really.”

“Oh? Sweet. So, why’d you make me?”

Well, isn’t that the million dollar question. It makes Wilson stare down at the floor. 

“I don’t know. I just,” he drags out the words, “wanted to see what would happen.”

He waits for another cheeky remark, or maybe even an insult. 

“Cool. I like that.” 

Wilson’s head shoots up. That was not expected, but very much welcomed. He feels the pit in his stomach get smaller, a smile beginning to form.

“Well, uh. Welcome to life, I guess.”

“Glad to be here, minus the ball-crushing pain in my leg.”

Waves of guilt spread all throughout the scientist. His nose wrinkles a bit, almost like a bunny. 

“I really am sorry about that. I promise, I’ll get it fixed.”

“No worries. It’s not like you’re David Hanson, or someone, like, _remotely_ good at this, or anything.” he replies with a smirk. Wilson’s mouth goes dry. 

“Thanks.” he grits out. The robot stands again, a small noise coming out of him. He stretches his arm behind his back.

“So, what’s my name, champ?”

Wilson's eyes widen.

**_~_ **

“You don’t know my _name?_ "

“I’m not good at naming things!”

“ _Oh!_ " he gasps out, “So I’m just a thing to you? I thought we had something _special!_ " he fake wails. Funny, how something built from parts Wilson stole from out-of-order cars could be this witty and annoying. 

“Look, why don’t you just name yourself if it’s so important to you?”

He seems to like that idea, eyes lighting up. He isn’t smiling, but seems a little giddy. The android is making his way to the kitchen. _Uh-oh._

“You’re not capable of eating anything.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” he says, opening the fridge. Wilson puts his hand on the door.

“Or drinking anything.”

That is responded with a groan. 

“Y’know, Jimmy, you could’ve been a real doll and given me _quality_ of life.” he shuts the fridge door, pouting.

“I’ll be sure to put that in my notes.”

Silence once more. House looks around the apartment. There’s papers, documents, charts and sticky notes everywhere, dedicated to him. It’s a bit embarrassing, honestly, his home in such a state. 

Well, _their_ house now. 

“I know my name.” 

Wilson’s eyebrows furrow, waiting. 

“Greg,” he states, “Greg, _uhhh,_ fuck it. Greg House.”

Somehow, it’s the perfect choice. Wilson grins. 

“Alright. Greg House it is.”

_**~** _

“Can I pee?”

“ _No,_ House.”

House jots that down on a piece of paper. He’s making a list of every mistake Wilson’s made in his coding. So far, Wilson feels like the dumbest scientist alive. 

Wilson’s on the floor, staring at the ceiling. House is on the couch. 

“Can I shit?”

Wilson scoffs. He takes that as a no as well.

“Jesus, what _can_ I do?”

“Bitch, apparently.”

House clicks his tongue. (Which is made with leather from the couch, by the way. Kind of freaky if you think about that for too long. So don’t.)

(Seriously. **Don’t.** )

“Woah! No need for that language, Frankenstein! I’m just saying,” He leans his body over him, directly staring down, “it’d be nice to know the satisfaction of human defecation.”

Wilson’s face twists into something sour. 

“ _Gross._ ”

“I’m gonna put that down under the _‘maybe in the future’_ section.”

Wilson feels a headache coming on.

_**~** _

He damns himself for letting House watch television, because now he’s hooked on overly cheesy medical soap-operas, correcting the errors the show makes about anatomy, diseases and conditions. Wilson watched him in awe the entire time. 

He mentally notes other things: House’s handwriting is pretty. His hands look nice and strong. His laugh is _very_ good and very contagious. He’s an absolute ass. 

It took all night to convince House to go into his sleep mode. Part of him didn’t want to, but he knew House would need all his energy to be able to meet all of the fellow scientists. 

“So, who am I beating up tomorrow?” House asks, one eye open. He’s spread himself on the couch, hand dangling. His hair is a bit ruffled, and he looks awfully sleepy. _Kinda cute._

“ _No one._ You’re gonna meet them. Converse. Hopefully, in a polite manner.”

“Hmm, so basically, you wanna show off your greatest accomplishment?”

Wilson stares.

“Yes.”

House lets out a chuckle. Along his collarbones, a pale yellow is glowing. Sleep mode is setting in.

“What’s gonna be in it for me?” House yawns out.

“I’ll make _‘programming a drinking code’_ a top priority.”

“Deal.” he slurred, eyes now fully closed. 

Wilson smiled, putting a blanket over him.

_**~** _

The scientist wrote some final thoughts in his notebook before turning in:

**GREG HOUSE**

**_TOP PRIORITY: FIXING PAIN_ **

**_NOTES: RECORD EPISODES OF “NURSE JACKIE” & BUY MEDICAL BOOKS_ **

**Author's Note:**

> more to come!!


End file.
